


A Bed For Three? Right This Way, Gentlemen.

by alkjira, diemarysues



Series: Three [2]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Double Penetration, Fanfiction of Fanfiction, Is That Like.... Inception?, M/M, Smut, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-28
Updated: 2013-09-28
Packaged: 2017-12-27 21:24:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/983786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alkjira/pseuds/alkjira, https://archiveofourown.org/users/diemarysues/pseuds/diemarysues
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The sequel to "Gay Naked Threesome Incestuous Three-way Drama"</p><p>Based on that, how can you not want to read this story? Also, it has puns and double penetration. Could anyone wish for more?</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Bed For Three? Right This Way, Gentlemen.

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Gay Naked Threesome Incestuous Three-way Drama](https://archiveofourown.org/works/965364) by [diemarysues](https://archiveofourown.org/users/diemarysues/pseuds/diemarysues). 



> This is a sequel to a story diemarysues wrote that was based on a story alkjira wrote which was based on a plot bunny that originally attacked diemarysues. So it's definitely what you could call a co-written story. 
> 
> And possibly fanfic-inception. Or maybe fanfic-incest since the family tree is starting to look twisted. Ince-something fiction, definitely.

“Is Thorin coming tomorrow?”

Dwalin raised an eyebrow and smirked down at his lover as he joined Bilbo on the couch. The telly was on in the background, but Bilbo seemed more interested in knowing how the call to Thorin, once again back in the country, had gone.

“Oh, shut it,” Bilbo added as he realised what he'd just said.

Dwalin’s smirked melted into a grin and he wrapped his arm around Bilbo’s waist. “Didn't say a thing.”

“Will Thorin be joining us tomorrow?”

Dwalin snickered.

“For dinner!” Bilbo protested, then paused. “Well, we'll start with dinner.”

“Finish with dessert?” Dwalin suggested as he let his hand trail up and down Bilbo’s side.

Bilbo rolled his eyes.

“No, I mean it,” Dwalin said. “Could you make the cherry things?” They were bloody amazing.

Bilbo hesitated. “I’m not sure they'll go with the salmon I’ve got planned.” He sounded doubtful, though when Dwalin gave him his best pleading look (which admittedly only seemed to work on Bilbo; but that suited Dwalin just fine), he relented. “Fine, why not.”

“Mmm,” Dwalin hummed and leaned in for a kiss. “Thank you. And yeah, Thorin said yes to dinner. And while I didn’t explicitly ask him to stay for a shag again, I think the message still got across. ”

“Do you think there are any photographers around still? I mean, for tomorrow.” Bilbo frowned. “Maybe we should go to my flat instead. If we make any headlines again I’m not sure what horrors Dori will inflict on me to ‘save my reputation’.”

“And have Beorn stare at Thorin for half an hour before even letting him inside the elevator?” Dwalin shook his head. “I think not. And my bed is bigger; won’t be very fun if someone ends up falling off.”

“If the two of you weren't so _huge_ ,” Bilbo began, but he had to stop to glare at Dwalin as the latter burst out snickering. “Behave, or, or I’ll ask _Thorin_ to suck me off tomorrow.”

“Planning _a-head_ , I see,” Dwalin said, snickering again at the groan Bilbo let out. Catching Bilbo’s jaw in his hand he lowered his head to lick at Bilbo’s lips. “I bet Thorin would love to get his mouth on you as much as I do. He’d gobble you up like I’m going to do with the cherry things.”

It’d be a damned pretty sight seeing Thorin’s dark head between Bilbo’s pale thighs. And he could always blow Bilbo another time - and wasn’t that just a thought that made you appreciate life more? Especially if there were also cherry things on the menu.

“Nice to see your priorities are straight,” Bilbo said drily, smacking Dwalin on the shoulder when he started snickering _again_ , repeating the last word Bilbo had said. He didn’t stop until Bilbo yanked on his beard to drag him into another kiss, this one much filthier than the last, even with the occasional snort still making its way out of Dwalin. When the kiss finished Bilbo had moved to straddle Dwalin’s thighs, his arms wrapped around his neck.

“If the both of you plan on having me,” Bilbo breathed against his mouth, stopping to lick at Dwalin’s upper lip, “I think I need to be sufficiently relaxed first… so I hope someone will help me with that.”

“I’m at your service,” Dwalin said huskily. “Maybe I’ll let Thorin have your pretty cock while I put my tongue to good use in your arse.”  
  
Bilbo’s cheeks flushed the slightest bit and his pupils expanded, making the hazel of his eyes darken.

“And I’ll only put a finger inside you when you’re desperate for it,” Dwalin continued. “Maybe I’ll be the one to finish you, or we’ll take turns sucking you, seeing who’ll be the lucky one.”

“Sounds like that’ll be me,” Bilbo said breathlessly, moving his hand to trace a finger over Dwalin’s mouth. He smiled when Dwalin pretended to try and bite it and Dwalin felt the acute need to kiss that smile, so he did.

“I think I want you straddling him,” Dwalin said hoarsely when their mouths parted. “Just like last time. And when his cock is snug inside you, and your cock is starting to grow hard again against his stomach, I'm going to start putting my fingers in. To get you ready for me. Do you want that? Our dicks sliding against each other inside of you, filling you up?”

“Gods, yes,” Bilbo gasped, yanking Dwalin down for yet another kiss, before squirming in his lap to get impossibly closer – and Dwalin was right there to help.  
  


“Do you really think he’ll want to be with us again?” Bilbo asked later that night. “Maybe he’ll change his mind.”

Dwalin thought about the way Thorin had looked the last time. How his gaze had kept flitting between Bilbo seated on his cock and Dwalin lifting and lowering him on it. The look of total abandon on his face as he came and the tender way he nuzzled Bilbo’s jaw afterwards. The heated look he’d given Dwalin before pouncing on him.

“Oh, he won’t change his mind. Trust me.”  
  


-  
  


When the doorbell rang the following afternoon Dwalin knew that it would be Thorin even before he’d opened the door, even though it was several hours before the time Bilbo had set for dinner. He just _knew_.  
  
“Bilbo is going to be upset that be won't get to feed you first,” he told his cousin as the door slid open.

“Are you this charming every time you open your door?” Thorin arched a thick eyebrow. “It's fascinating. But as you didn’t call me a bastard this time I guess it’s an improvement.”

“Get inside so I can kiss you,” Dwalin ordered, wanting to pull Thorin close but not wanting to take the risk of another bloody photographer having a lucky day. “We've closed all the blinds this time.”

Thorin's blue eyes darkened and he stepped over the threshold so that Dwalin could shut the door behind him. When Dwalin made to kiss him Thorin splayed a broad palm against his chest.

“So sure of yourself?” he asked, inclining his head slightly towards the blinds covering the only window in the hall.

“If you don't feel _up_ to participating,” Dwalin said (with an unrepentant smirk as he knew that Bilbo couldn’t hear him), “you can always watch. Or just have dinner with us. But if you just want to have _dinner_ , I'm not sure why it's two o'clock and you're already here.” Taking advantage of his larger size he then crowded Thorin against the wall, Thorin’s hand still pressed between them, and claimed his mouth in a deep kiss.

Kissing someone who also had a beard was not something Dwalin was particularly used to, but it was something he sure wouldn’t _mind_ getting used to. It was possible that they got a little carried away, because when Dwalin heard Bilbo clear his throat he found himself with his hands beneath Thorin’s rucked up shirt (Thorin’s coat having already been thrown to the floor) and his leg between Thorin’s, while his cousin’s hands had busied themselves unbuckling Dwalin’s belt.

“When you said you were going to get the door I didn't realise that it would take this long,” Bilbo said, an amused smile playing around the corner of his mouth even though he tried to look stern. “You promised to help me pit the cherries.”

“Oh this is just a friendly greeting.” Dwalin frowned disapprovingly down at this cousin. “Thorin, you rude bastard, you need to greet Bilbo as well.”

Thorin sighed in exasperation that Dwalin suspected was only partially feigned, but that turned into a moan quickly enough when Dwalin rubbed a thigh against his crotch.

“Hello there,” Bilbo smiled as he walked up to stand beside them. “I’m glad you came.”

“Not yet he hasn’t,” Dwalin murmured softly, smirking when his lover ignored him in favour of rising up on his toes to kiss a slightly dazed looking Thorin.

Watching Bilbo kiss someone else was a very pretty sight. His eyes fluttered close and a sweet flush started rising on his cheeks. Though… it was entirely possible that Dwalin might have been of another opinion if the other person _hadn’t_ been Thorin.

Strange that. The thought of kissing Dís or Frerin just made him feel uncomfortable and like some sort of pervert. But that was not the case with Thorin.

Leaning his shoulder against the wall, Dwalin eyed the bulge of Thorin’s cock contemplatively. Rather than making him feel discomforted it made Dwalin’s own cock take interest, especially with the way Bilbo moaned softly as Thorin’s hands cupped his arse. No, Dwalin decidedly didn’t feel like a pervert for enjoying this. Which was rather fortunate considering the plans he had.

“I suggest we save dinner for later,” Dwalin suggested as Bilbo’s hands crept up to tangle in Thorin’s hair. “Work up an appetite.”

“I'm not cooking after the two of you have been inside me,” Bilbo protested. “Not only do I plan on being a happy, mostly incoherent pile of something that once owned a spine, but I’ve seen the two of you naked, and walking around is probably going to be interesting for the next day or so.”

“If we let you walk around,” Thorin said pointedly.

“You cook tomorrow and I'll make something tonight?” Dwalin offered. “Or,” he added, lowering his voice, “you’ll tell me what to do. You’re pretty good at that.”

Bilbo pursed his lips, then shivered as Thorin whispered something into his ear. 

“All right,” he said. “But someone better feed me tonight or I’m going to get cross.”

Coming from Bilbo, that was a truly _horrifying_ threat. “He withholds cookies when he’s cross,” Dwalin told Thorin who looked confused.

“Is that a euphemism?”

“Just wait until you have his cookies, then you’ll understand.”

“That also sounds like a euphemism,” Thorin grumped as Bilbo started pulling him along towards Dwalin’s bedroom. Dwalin trailed a couple of steps behind them, admiring the view.

When he reached the door Bilbo stopped and looked earnestly (and very prettily, it had to be said), up at Thorin.

“You do want to do this again? It’s all right to say no.”

Thorin looked a little taken aback at the question - or possibly he was just having trouble going back to thinking with his bigger head, Dwalin thought and hid a smirk. Bilbo was awfully good at being a distraction. His hand was slowly trailing over Thorin’s chest, as he gazed up at him with those big, big eyes, soft lips just slightly parted as if waiting for a kiss. It was _possible_ that he didn’t even know what he was doing to Thorin, but even so, it was wise never to underestimate the power of Bilbo. Dwalin knew his own mind, and he had seen what some people wrote about his lover on the internet; he was _far_ from being the only one to appreciate the sight of Bilbo’s plump arse in a tight pair of trousers.

“I want to,” Thorin said slowly, looking over Bilbo’s shoulder to Dwalin, and then again at Bilbo. “If the both of you want me here.”

“We do,” Bilbo said with a brilliant smile, and Dwalin nodded.

“Indeed we do.”

The smile Thorin gave the two of them was almost shy, and without really knowing how – spontaneous teleportation perhaps – Dwalin was suddenly right next to his cousin, intent on claiming that small smile for himself.

Soft hands pushed at them, and still fused together by the lips they stumbled into the bedroom.

“I’ll be with you shortly,” Bilbo said, sounding as if they were at some fancy cocktail party. “I trust that you can keep busy.” With that he scurried off and Dwalin and Thorin both looked after him in confusion.

Dwalin shrugged one shoulder and reached back to pull off his shirt. “Well, you heard him.”  
  


 

Thorin wasn’t really his _cousin_ \- they were more distantly related than that - but as they’d grown up together they were also more than that, closer than that, and Dwalin had the feeling that having his hand shoved down the other man’s trousers should probably make him feel awkward. But instead it just made him want to put his mouth there as well. He really was a lucky bastard.

Thorin was lying on his back on the bed with Dwalin straddling his thighs to leave himself room to explore. He hadn’t really gotten to touch Thorin enough the last time. And it had been a long two weeks while Thorin had been out of the country. Dwalin would almost suspect Thorin had done it on purpose just to be an arse, but if that was the case it seemed he’d suffered as well. He responded beautifully to the slightest movement of Dwalin’s hand, hips trying to buck beneath Dwalin’s weight and his hands clenching on Dwalin’s upper arms. The cut-off moans Dwalin stole directly from Thorin’s lungs were delicious.

When he heard the sound of soft footsteps Dwalin tore his mouth away from Thorin’s with one last flick of his tongue. As he turned his head, Dwalin heard the sharp intake of breath coming from his cousin, and against his hand, Thorin’s cock twitched.

Bilbo was standing in the doorway, and it was bloody fortunate that they’d already closed all the blinds and pulled all the curtains, because he was completely naked, except for the thick, black leather collar wrapped around his neck.

Dwalin couldn't help but chuckle when he looked back down again and saw the dumbstruck look on Thorin's face. 

“Did I look like that as well?” he asked Bilbo who padded further into the room, a pleased smile on his face as he took in Dwalin and Thorin’s mostly unclothed state.

“Pretty much,” he said with a nod, getting onto the bed to twine his arms around Dwalin’s neck and pressing a light kiss against his lips. As one they then turned their heads back towards Thorin.

“ _This_ is what you miss when you flit off to the colonies,” Dwalin said, tracing the collar with one finger while squeezing Thorin’s dick with the hand he still had shoved down the other man’s trousers. “I hope you feel suitably regretful.”

“Indeed,” Thorin said, voice almost deep enough for Dwalin to feel it in his bones.

“Plan on staying in the country for a while?” Bilbo asked casually as he moved to kneel further up the bed, closer to Thorin’s upper body.

“I -” Thorin began, breaking off when Bilbo picked up one of his hands and moved it up to the collar. “Absolutely,” Thorin breathed, stroking Bilbo’s throat and the leather. His hand looked huge against Bilbo’s neck, and Dwalin grinned. This was going to be even more fun than last time.

Absently moving the hand he had in Thorin’s trousers, he watched his cousin bring Bilbo close. Instead of sealing their lips together (which was quite disappointing, actually), Bilbo turned his head to the side at the last moment, brushing his lips over Thorin’s ear, whispering.

Perhaps it was then that he should have felt trepidation.

All that happened, though, was him finding himself on his own bum; Thorin was almost as strong as he was, and easily managed to flip their positions.

Dwalin heard two soft clicks before rearing back in alarm, only to face Thorin’s insufferably smug expression. He’d been on the receiving end of that look enough times for it to be thoroughly irritating, and he would have wiped it off Thorin’s face… if he’d had his hands free.

To answer the unspoken – and likely expletive-filled – question, Thorin sat back on his heels and murmured, “I was asked to pick up some things while I was away.”

Inwardly ( _only_ inwardly), marvelling at Bilbo’ and Thorin’s sneakiness, Dwalin sat back against the pillows, grasping the middle support of the headboard with his large hands. The short chain clinked gently. “You planned this.”

Bilbo grinned. “We did.

Thorin’s eyes smouldered as he looked at the cuffs, much like they had when Bilbo had come out in nothing but his collar. It was a nice expression, to be sure, but Dwalin would’ve liked the use of his hands, and not just to tease his cousin. He’d loved to force his fingers  between the collar and Bilbo’s skin, pulling the leather just that bit tighter.

Bilbo had loved that too. Though he was looking rather pleased about the situation Dwalin now found himself in as well.

Dwalin was brought back to the present by steady hands on his knees, and the accompanying drag of a metal zipper. His metal zipper, gripped tight between Thorin’s teeth. Dwalin’s pulse leaped, though as he considered his cousin’s seduction, he was also dimly grateful that he’d worn pants under his jeans. The jerking tugs were beautiful pressure against his cock, but he didn’t want the damn thing to get caught in – just, just no.

“You’re distracted,” Thorin said, nosing his way along one tattoo on Dwalin’s hip. “I don’t like that.”

“Maybe you should watch what you do with those teeth – ah, fuck! Fuck you!”

Bilbo laughed – fucking bastard – at the fact that Thorin had _bitten_ him. Dwalin just knew it was going to bruise, but was rather more interested in the way Thorin sucked at the bite after. Surely those skills could be put to better use.

This was a notion they all shared, clearly, because it wasn’t long before Thorin’s lips were locked around his cock. The image was almost as intoxicating as that of Bilbo holding long dark locks up and away. Without his hair framing his face, the hollows of Thorin’s cheeks were especially apparent as he sucked firmly. In this he was also almost as good as Dwalin.

Almost as good.

He was skilled enough to have Dwalin straining at his cuffs though – and it was pretty damning that he already thought of them as _his_ cuffs. If they’d been metal they’d be cutting into his wrists; as it was, the firm pressure against his pulse was fantastic. And over the moans from his mouth and the wet slurp of Thorin’s –

“That’s it. Swallow him down. Deeper.” Bilbo met Dwalin’s wide eyes with a smile before biting softly on the silver cuff in Thorin’s ear. “Now up again, yes. Swirl your tongue around – aren’t _you_ clever.” Never mind that he was the one with the collar around his neck; there was no doubt on anyone’s mind that Bilbo was wholly in control. “He tastes lovely and sweet, doesn’t he? He’s been doubling on the desserts lately, but we’ll make him pay for that. Later.”

Thorin was shamelessly rubbing himself off on the sheets. Dwalin supposed that the love of cock ran in the family – or he would’ve supposed that, if he hadn’t been more concerned with cursing loudly. Bilbo had just taught Thorin the secret of the most sensitive part of Dwalin’s body, which was completely bloody devious of him. (And, for general knowledge, this was the base of Dwalin’s cock, just above his bollocks, which was especially responsive to the attentions of a wicked tongue.)

Fucking Christ, why had his lovers connived to bring out the cuffs today, when one was shirtless and the other naked? He wanted his hands over Bilbo’s arse, squeezing and holding those plump cheeks apart. Then he wanted to bury his fingers in Thorin’s dusting of black chest hair, so much more generous than on his own. If he hadn’t been tied back he’d also have a tongue heavy with the tang of sweat and musk and cock and –

Dwalin groaned sharply. All that he’d even known of Thorin’s tongue was that it was clever with wit and sharp when he wanted it to be. Now, with Bilbo’s sinful guidance, that flat, rough tongue was finding and taking advantage of every weakness of his.

“That’s enough,” Bilbo ordered, still managing to sound sweet while yanking on Thorin’s hair. He ignored the glares directed at him for putting a stop to the fun – rightly so. Dwalin’s mouth went dry as bone when he watched Bilbo move in close to lick at Thorin’s mouth. Bilbo’s hips jerked of their own accord, no doubt finding the familiar taste of Dwalin on the tongue now in his mouth.

“Come on,” Dwalin growled. He wasn’t impatient – of course he wasn’t – but having the two most gorgeous arseholes within his grasp and _not being able to touch_ , well, that would frustrate even the saintliest of saints. “Come on.” Okay, it was possible that he was a little impatient.

“Don’t fret, my love,” Bilbo said soothingly, relaxed as you please as he threw a leg over Dwalin’s lap. As he squirmed into place (bastard, bastard, bastard), he threw over his shoulder, “Take those trousers off.”

The mattress bounced as Thorin (rightly) hurried to do as bid, but Dwalin was rather more caught up in the fact that, what the fuck, he still had _his_ jeans and pants on. And, fine, his cock was hanging out and rubbing quite nicely against Bilbo’s, so that wasn’t _too_ bad, but –

Bilbo scratched his nails lightly over the crown of Dwalin’s head. “Stop thinking so much. You’re not good at it.”

The retort was just _there_ on his tongue – and it was a properly scathing one, too – but Bilbo had to be a bastard and bounced forward. Their cocks slicked past each other, and then they were kissing, nice and slow and thorough, and it was possible that he only imagined it, but Dwalin thought he could taste a hint of himself on Bilbo's tongue.

Thorin climbed back on the bed, and Dwalin peeked open his eyes so he could steal a look. He managed an appreciative glance at powerful thighs before he was overtaken by outrage; Bilbo had pulled back and away, moving towards Thorin. Dwalin strained at the cuffs uselessly, scowling at the unfairness of being kept away. The disadvantage of being the one being teased, instead of doing the teasing.

He was better at the latter, it had to be said.

Bilbo was still sort-of straddling Dwalin’s outstretched legs. He was positioned diagonally across the bed, on his hands and knees, and Thorin – Thorin was rubbing the bridge of his nose along the base of Bilbo’s spine, his hands tight around Bilbo’s pudgy love-handles. Dwalin could keenly hear his heartbeat in his ears, going faster and faster as pale blue eyes met his.

When Thorin’s long-fingers hands slid down to part Bilbo’s cheeks, and his mouth slid down accordingly, Dwalin was right there moaning alongside Bilbo.

The smallest of the three had his cheek pressed against the sheets, face flushed and eyes tightly shut. Pink was an excellent colour on him, splashed against his barely-there cheekbones, and spreading further as Thorin moved his mouth. Dwalin bit his lip, hard, when a broken sound emerged from Bilbo’s mouth – when Thorin obviously slipped his tongue inside him. That was supposed to be _his_ job, but Dwalin couldn’t quite decide who he was more jealous of.

It didn’t take long for Thorin to prepare Bilbo – as promised, Dwalin had thoroughly _relaxed_ him in the morning –; while he did, every single ragged moan went straight to Dwalin’s painfully hard cock. The bastard thing of it all was that Dwalin couldn’t even alleviate the ache. He was left watching and waiting, and the relief was almost palpable when Thorin manhandled Bilbo into place.

Still Bilbo teased, delaying as he hovered over Dwalin’s dick.

“You want this?” he asked, voice breathy and hoarse.

Thorin stole the obvious answer when he fisted his hand over Dwalin, slicking him up, deliberately pressing his thumb underneath the sensitive head.

“Fuck you both,” Dwalin gasped, not quite sure if he could feel his hands. Other parts however... “Either sit on my dick, Bilbo, or fuck off.”

“Or get fucked by your cousin,” Bilbo retorted – but obligingly rocked into place with the ease of practice. His face went slack with pleasure as hazel eyes fluttered closed and he sighed through his nose, hands fists on broad shoulders. He didn’t wait long before starting to move, his lovely little prick bouncing against his belly with his motion.

“That’s happening anyway,” Thorin rumbled, nibbling Bilbo’s shoulders while his hands clenched on Dwalin’s hips. As Dwalin looked on, he moved down the bed, drawing a line of kisses down Bilbo’s spine, and then he –

Dwalin arched up off the bed with a loud shout, Bilbo collapsing against his chest as he cried out needily. Thorin’s tongue was up and against Dwalin’s cock, _inside_ Bilbo, and that was – fuck, that was –

Christ, he wasn’t sure he was going to last.

Thorin seemed to sense his line of thought, moving his mouth away and replacing it with slippery fingers. Dwalin didn’t know how Bilbo was dealing with the stretch – quite well, if the pleasure-soaked whimpers he was hiding into his neck were any indication – but the feel of Thorin’s moving against him (and these were _just his fingers_ ) was more delicious than Dwalin could’ve ever imagined. And to be frank, Dwalin had a very active imagination.

Just saying.

Bilbo gasped abruptly, locking his fingers over the base of his own cock in a tight ring. “Thorin,” he said urgently. “Thorin, now.”

“Alright,” was the broken reply. Thorin was apparently holding onto the last vestiges of his control, just like Dwalin and Bilbo, and as Dwalin looked on, he loomed into place, suddenly bigger than he was. Dwalin felt him pushing Bilbo’s buttocks apart, before he shifted forward and started sliding his cock into Bilbo’s tight heat.

Dwalin could feel the head sliding against his shaft, pressed into that small space, and Bilbo was panting and twitching between them, _around_ them. His body was sandwiched between theirs, yielding and soft as always, and Dwalin wished he could stroke his hands soothingly down his sides.

“Relax,” he croaked instead, struck by the irony of being himself drawn taut as a bowstring. The muscles in his stomach and his arms especially were hard and tight as he fought not to thrust his hips. As much as he wanted release, he wouldn’t hurt Bilbo.

“You try and relax –” Bilbo broke off, breathing heavily. “You try and relax when, aah, when you’ve got two fat cocks in you and –” He shuddered, sweet and slow. “Ohh, I told you you were both huge.”

“I think that’s a compliment rather than a complaint,” Thorin said, his voice pleased and entirely too steady for what they were doing. At this point he was completely seated inside Bilbo, buried to the hilt as Dwalin was, and for a few moments they were silent, breathing together.

“D’you – d’you think you can move now?” Bilbo asked hesitantly, glancing over his shoulder at Thorin. “Slowly?”

“Yes,” Thorin hissed, the syllable slipping off his tongue in something that sounded like pure relief – and Dwalin could appreciate that relief as Thorin did indeed move. Slowly.

Dwalin’s fingernails dug into his palms. Bilbo’s head fell back onto Thorin’s shoulder, his neck pale and long in the dim light of the bedroom, the collar a dark band around it. He stretched forward enough so he could press his teeth to Bilbo’s collarbone – and Thorin rolled back and then in again, cock hard and slick and hot against his own.

There was nothing between them then, but sparks of pure pleasure streaking between their bodies. All Dwalin had to do was sit back, truly, as Thorin snapped his hips forwards again and again, faster and faster. Bilbo squirmed in clear enjoyment, the whines from his throat growing higher and higher until his mouth was open in a wordless cry – until he was spilling, wet, with Thorin and Dwalin following not far behind.

It was an indeterminate amount of time later that Dwalin could even _begin_ to think properly. Once he did, what he said was: “Fuck me.”

“Next time,” Thorin mumbled, and Bilbo – as languid and boneless as he had predicted – grinned.


End file.
